A Family Affair: Summer: Truth in Lies, Book 3 (22 page)

Pop sat on the back porch sipping an ice tea and munching on a pizzelle. In another few weeks, the night air would grow crisp and the leaves would turn from green to red, yellow, even orange. Flowers would begin to fade and wither, giving up their fanciness like an old prom dress. But this morning the scent of lavender and lemon balm drifted to him and the zinnias burst in shocks of red and pink, signs that summer had not yet left them.

He di
dn’t sleep much last night, too many things rumbling around in his head. His belly was doing its share of rumbling, too, what with all the food he ate at the wedding. How was a person supposed to turn away from a dish of manicotti and a thick slice of roast beef? And when au gratin potatoes—not from a box either—are right next to the garlic mashed ones, well, doesn’t a body need a taste of both? This body did, and this body paid for it in the middle of the night.

Pop shook his head and laughed. “
Oh Lucy, it sure was tasty. And the new thing is cupcakes, fancy ones with swirly frosting. They had red velvet, triple chocolate.” He scratched his jaw as a few more popped into his brain. “Vanilla, and this strawberry one that made me think of you. Things sure have changed since you and I got hitched.” He sighed. “Don’t make no difference if you’re eating on china or a paper plate; the real test is the day-to-day living. Just wait until Tess finds out Cash picked up a dog from the rescue center. Henry’s his name. Will’s got him up at his place until Cash and Tess get back from Niagara Falls. Hmph. Henry.”

“You should have seen me and Lily dancing. I was teaching her to do the jitterbug and she didn’t do half bad.” He laughed. “Oh, that girl does love to dance and you know I always did have moves. Speaking of moves, Natalie Servetti was at it again. This time she was hanging all over Cash’s friend, Ben Reed. Odd thing
, though, he kept looking at her cousin, Gina. Remember her? Dark hair, dark eyes, curvy. Italian with an attitude. They got matched up in the bridal party, but I think they’d make a good pair. Gotta get through some issues first; something about an ex-wife.” He tapped his chin, pulled out details of Gina’s past. “That poor girl never had a family who believed in her, but all it takes is the right person. The boy talked about moving here, so we’ll see if he’s the one.” He yawned, thinking he might need a nap before Lily showed up for their checkers game.

“I’ll tell you who’s not impressing me right now is Brody Kinkaid. Poor Bree’s about to have that baby
and wasn’t he bragging about going for another one if he didn’t get a boy? Somebody needs to tell him to zip it or snip it. You think Nate might do that?” He scratched his jaw, considered this. “Nah. But Christine might. I’m gonna have to think on that.”

He grabbed another pizzelle, took a bite
, and thought about the latest bit of news that crossed his ears just yesterday. “Christine’s uncle’s moving to Magdalena with his brood. Building some big Hollywood-style mansion in the west end. Bought up three properties to do it. Imagine that? I’m not too keen on Charlie Blacksworth’s brother rolling into this town, but you gotta give the man credit for raising someone else’s kids. Still, not my first choice, but Christine sure is excited, so is Lily, and dang, even Nate and Miriam are chirping away about this guy and his family like they’re royalty.

“
I’m telling you, Lucy, this is going to get very interesting and I’ll be right here, giving you a play-by-play.” He folded his hands over his belly and closed his eyes. “Yes, indeed I certainly will.”

It’s the end for now, but don’t worry, there’ll be more heartache, betrayal, forgiveness, and redemption for the residents of Magdalena as the saga continues in A Family Affair: Fall, Book Four in the Truth in Lies Series, coming Fall 2014! Harry's heading to Magdalena with his brood…and that should be something to witness. Gina Servetti might shy away from all things male, especially relationships, but Ben Reed is no ordinary male. Let the verbal sparring and the unwanted attraction begin.

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Many thanks for choosing to spend your time reading A Family Affair: Summer. If you enjoyed it, please consider writing a review on the site where you purchased it. And now, I must head back to Magdalena and help these characters get in and out of trouble!

Here are a
few of the letters Cash received as the town tried to work their magic and convince Cash that he and Tess deserved a second chance.

The heart knows what it wants. Deny that and you walk the earth in a shadow of regret. Do not live that regret one moment longer. E.F.

Look in the mirror, admit the truth, tell Tess. Easy, right? No, but damn necessary. Am I going to need a suit anytime soon? How about a tie? Nate

Family isn’t about genes or sharing the same last name. It’s about commitment, community, and caring. You and Tess have a lifetime to share. Do not waste another minute. Dolly Finnegan (Jack’s wife)

Apparently my niece thinks I know a thing or two about relationships and wanted me to share some ideas with you. Hah! Christine gives this old fool too much credit. The only thing I can tell you is when you find the right woman, she’ll teach you all you need to know. Harry Blacksworth

Love isn’t neat and tidy like a well-organized linen drawer. It’s messier than a five-year-old playing in mud, but just as sweet once you clean off the dirt. Wanda Cummings

The honeymoon suite at Heart Sent is ready and waiting. Mimi Pendergrass

Let yourself love her. She’s good for you. Ramona

I’ve never been one to trust or love easily, but I’m taking a chance and I don’t think I’ll regret it. Take that chance. Olivia

Don’t let fear stand in the way of true love. Will

I’m naming a burger after you and Tess. Available next week. It’s called the “Take a chance on me” burger. Phyllis at Lina’s Café

Cash and Tess. Forever. Love, Lily Desantro   
 

The first 2 chapters of
Pulling Home, That Second Chance Series: Book One

It's all about that second chance...

Sometimes we're lucky enough to get that second chance
—in life and in love.
That Second Chance Series
are stand-alone stories of strong women who battle heartache and loss with courage and determination to find new paths and true love. What ties them together? A common theme: belief in the beauty of that second chance.

Pulling Home
is Book One of That Second Chance Series.

She'll risk anything to save her child...even the truth.

It's taken nine years and a cross-country move, but Audra Valentine Wheyton has kept her secrets safe. She's created the perfect life
: a husband who loves her, a daughter she adores, and a position as head writer for an award-winning daytime soap. When her husband dies suddenly, Audra returns to her hometown for the funeral and faces a community that has not forgotten her meager beginnings and the man who has never forgiven her for marrying his brother.

Jack Wheyton is a successful pediatric neurosurgeon who is about to become engaged when Audra walks back into his life with her daughter. He forgave his brother long ago for taking something that had been his, something he hadn't even realized he wanted until it was gone. But forgiving Audra is another story...and forgetting her? Near impossible.

When a shattering illness strikes Audra's daughter, she turns to Jack to save her child and risks exposing a secret that will change their lives forever.

That Second Chance Series

Book One:
Pulling Home

Book Two:
The Way They Were

Book Three:
Simple Riches

Book Four:
Paradise Found

Book Five:
Not Your Everyday Housewife

Book Six:
The Butterfly Garden

“It’s not the end of the world, you know. It’s only eight days.”—Christian Wheyton

They were leaving tomorrow. Scraped away from her like a D&C without anesthetic. Even after all these years, she still dreaded it—the suitcases, tagged and waiting at the front door, the early morning trip to the airport, the luggage checks, the lines of travelers snaking past. Each process pulled Audra Valentine Wheyton’s husband and daughter away, minds and bodies beginning the two-thousand-mile trek before they reached the first escalator. Kara had a new suitcase this time, pink and green canvas with wheels to replace the Cinderella vinyl she’d used the past six trips.

Christian thought Audra should stay home and forgo the airport ritual, but she needed to watch her daughter’s blond head disappear among the mesh of travelers and gain comfort from her husband’s tanned hand raised in one last good-bye. He no longer asked her to go with them, but his pale blue eyes shone with hope each time he packed his suitcase and looked at her with a quiet longing that begged,
Come with us. Settle the past. Show them it doesn’t matter anymore
.

But it did matter. It would always matter. Christian thought the past would never catch up with her and if it did, no one would recognize it as hers anyway. He discounted the one person who might piece together the truth and recognize her deceit. Nine years and nine states separated them, but she feared
him
most.

“I saw the show today.” The softness in Christian’s voice cocooned her and she snuggled closer. “I like where you’re going with it.”

“You didn’t think it was too revealing?” Writing a story was one thing but watching the scripted words morph onto the screen and slip through someone else’s mouth? Especially words tied to a past only three people in the entire state of California knew about? That was close to torture.

“Give yourself a little credit, Audra.
Soap Digest
wouldn’t call you a masterful storyteller if it weren’t true.”

Of course Christian supported her but what did a man entranced by the Cold War know about hype and wordplay? She sighed and said, “There are no masterful storytellers in daytime drama.”

He was not going to be denied his opinion. “What about
People’
s blurb last month? Bland doesn’t make
People
, unless it’s a new diet or health food craze.”

Her husband, the optimist. “You don’t think it has to do with the public’s insane quest to unearth the identity of the show’s head writer?”

“Maybe.” He stroked her back, played with the ends of her shoulder-length hair in that familiar way he did when he was thinking, as though he were turning the pages of a well-worn document.

“It has everything to do with morbid curiosity. Howard’s got the press wrapped up in the mystery and he’s going to play it as long as he can.” By the time her identity squeaked out, and it would eventually, she’d be months, maybe even a year past the current storyline, and it wouldn’t matter. It only mattered now, when the critical aspects of the story might be recognized for what they were—a duplication of her own life. From the moment she walked on the set thirteen months ago, the staff knew her only as Rhetta Hardt, a clever name born of Howard Krozer’s imagination and obsession with all things German. The rest of the staff believed they were protecting “Rhetta’s” identity, forming a camaraderie of sorts to band against overzealous fans and too-curious reporters, and it was this desire to be part of the informed group that led them to trust blindly.

Many whispered their own suspicions about the dark-haired woman who rarely smiled. One said she’d defected from Germany to flee the stigma of parents convicted of spying. Another maintained Rhetta was in witness protection for turning state’s evidence on a kingpin boyfriend who had been engaged in drug or arms dealing. Only a few believed Howard Krozer’s fabricated story. And once they met Christian, who had been introduced sans last name, he became part of the wondering. Perhaps a good part of the fantasizing as well. The costume designer with the double knee replacements invited Christian to coffee every time she saw him, even brought raspberry streusel when she knew he’d be on the set. And 38DD Sophia Pregganio pumped extra purr into her love scenes when she spotted him. Even Roland Gergi offered up a wink and a promise to ditch his partner, Julio, if Christian would only look his way. It was all spoken in fun with the half-seriousness of those who aren’t quite joking.

And all the while, Howard smiled and popped handfuls of Chiclets in his mouth, another obsession of the sixty-something soap guru.
People don’t care about the truth
, he’d told Audra.
They only care about supporting what they believe is the truth, which is rarely even close.
He was right about that. The truth was nowhere close.

“So—” Christian heaved a sigh and pulled her from her thoughts “—are we going to talk about tomorrow?”

And there it was, the segue to tomorrow and the beginning of eight days of longing and loneliness.

“Audra?”

“I’m sorry. Just distracted, I guess.”

Christian kissed the top of her head. “It’s not the end of the world, you know. It’s only eight days.”

His presence calmed her as it had so many times before—during the scandalous death of her mother, the loss of her beloved grandmother, the horrific labor pains, and emergency C-section. “I know,” she murmured, relaxing despite the dreaded separation. “This is just not a good time. Kara’s really excited about her gymnastics classes and Peter promised to take her to the set next week and…” Who was she kidding? It would never be a good time.

“I’ll miss you.”

When she didn’t answer, he loosened his hold and tipped her chin up so he could see her face. “Moscow was twenty days.”

“Moscow was work. And besides, it’s a world away from San Diego.”

“So is Holly Springs.”

“Very funny.”
She envied Christian’s light-hearted view of the world. With him there was always a solution, often tinged with a glint of humor that made the worst scenarios seem not so bad, especially when delivered with a wide smile and flash of dimple. “I’m going to miss you and Kara, whether it’s three days away or thirteen.”

“I know.” And then with the tiniest glimmer of hope, he said, “You could go with us.”

“You know I can’t.”

He didn’t respond, just held her while she breathed in his comforting scent. From the moment they’d exchanged vows nine years ago, he’d promised to be there for her and he had, with the exception of the annual research projects that took him to Moscow. But she hadn’t minded any of it, not even the three-week excursion to Altai and Novosibirsk. History professors researched and traveled so when they returned home they could write and lecture with purpose and familiarity. It was the biannual trips to Holly Springs, New
York, that left her queasy and unsettled. Every trip. Every year. Every time.

“How about I fix my favorite girl a piece of cinnamon toast, just the way she likes it?”

A smile slipped grudgingly from Audra’s lips. “Only if it has gobs of butter and your special cinnamon sugar mix.”

“Absolutely.”
He kissed her softly on the mouth. “Then we’ll head to bed. Morning will come soon enough.”